


Chain of Command

by PhantomProducer



Series: A Call to Arms [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Established Relationship, Established Steve Rogers/OC, F/M, Fluffy Ending, I'm gutter trash, NSFW, One Shot, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Shameless Smut, Smut, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Wedding Night, Weddings, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 17:37:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7473495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomProducer/pseuds/PhantomProducer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers has married his fiancee, Holly Martin. They've gone to the chapel, exchanged the vows, cut the cake...and there's still more to do.<br/>Set during the FF.net story, <em>The Eleventh Hour</em>. Set at the end of Ch. 34. One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chain of Command

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, hey. Look at that: another one-shot of smutty Steve/Holly goodness. See? I told you I'm gutter trash. When will it end?! :-P  
> Anyway, as always, there is backstory to this, but it's relatively short this time: in my story, _The Eleventh Hour_ , Steve Rogers has gotten engaged to a girl named Holly Martin. In Ch. 34, they finally tie the knot, and the chapter closes on them departing for the honeymoon suite and the door shutting behind them. Well, this following one-shot details what happens behind closed doors.  
> I own nothing of the MCU, just the OC, Holly Martin. You can read about her relationship with Steve Rogers, and experiences with the other Avengers over on FF.net under the same username I have here.

Carried over the threshold, Holly was lowered onto her feet as soon as the hotel room door shut, Steve's hands on her waist and pushing her towards the nearest wall. He wasted no time in claiming her mouth again, desperate to taste and touch whatever he could. She returned his fervor in kind, fingers knotting into the jacket of his dress blues, curling around his tie and drawing him ever-deeper into her embrace. Shifting to the side, she let the inside of her thigh brush along his outer leg, the rough material of his trousers muted by the skirt of her white dress. He took it as his cue to pull it up higher, the pads of his fingers drifting over the bare skin of her leg as it slid beneath the white material, slipping a finger under the leftover garter there, a chuckle at the back of his throat. As his lips moved off hers, drawing down her cheek to the sensitive spot below her ear, she tugged at the jacket again, attempting to pull it off. Letting his arms down, he helped her get it off of him, the heavy cloth in a pile at his feet. Hastily, as she tugged on the buckle at his waist (the movement making his hips lurch forward and a groan echo in her ear) his hands traveled around her back, wedging between her and the wall in an effort to find the access points. While she was able to loosen the buckle and belt, she could see the frustration in his face when he backed up enough, fists curling into the folds of her wedding dress. Carefully, she let go of his belt, palms pressed to his shoulders and nudging him away from her.  
  
“Hold on, cowboy,” Holly murmured, ensuring there was enough space between them to loosen his hold on her. She doubted he would ever actively try to destroy her wedding dress, but his impatience and strength could work against him. Better to have him shuffle back before his impulses and needs got the better of him. “My stuff doesn't come off so easily.”  
  
Turning her back to towards him, she heard the breath he sucked in, the tutting sound he made soon after.  
  
“That is far too many buttons,” Steve stated, canting his head to the side. He carded a hand through his blond hair, taking another long look at the back of the dress. From the illusion neckline to the small of her back, it was secured by a neat row of fasteners, far more than any he had on his clothes. It must have been a chore, getting into the dress earlier in the day.  
  
“For you, yeah,” she giggled, casting a glance over her shoulder at him. As his eyebrow rose, she dipped her chin in the direction of the buttons, palms splayed on the wall before her as she leaned against it. “Help me?”  
  
Slowly, Steve complied, stepping close enough to let his body heat wash over her, his bigger fingers surprisingly nimble in releasing the fasteners. Little by little, he opened it up, skittering touches across between her shoulder blades and up to the base of her neck as he went, her eyes closing at the contact. Revealing the slip beneath, he gave a little hum of approval, the last button released and his palms dipping under the outer layer. The digits worked their way to the front, pressing to her belly and bringing her away from the wall to press against his front. Hips rocked slightly as the sheer material around her shoulders drooped down, kisses pressed under her ear and along her neck. Her knees went weak as Steve let out a quiet moan, pelvis twitching again, but she kept her hands braced against the wall, pushing against them so as not to succumb. After a few moments, she recalled how much there was still left to go, and she started to shift out of his grasp again.  
  
“Hey, hey,” she said, the words becoming a groan as he reached lower beneath her dress, trying to touch more. Sidestepping, she twisted, clutching at the dress so it would not fully fall and trip her up as she went. The heat pooling between her legs was not cooled, but she had to maintain her composure for the moment. Nodding to the bathroom, she continued, “Wait. Let me just go and get this off.”  
  
The pucker of a frown on his face was adorable, in its own way. He caught her about the waist again, not willing to let her go in the slightest.  
  
“Can't I help?” Steve asked, attempting to make the request sound selfless and innocent, but the glint in his gaze made it more than obvious that he meant otherwise. Understanding what he was doing, Holly let her eyebrows incline, the corner of her mouth curling up. Her hands came up to his chest, toying with the buttons on his pressed shirt for a moment.  
  
“Tell you what: you take care of things out here, and I'll make it quick.”  
  
His eyebrow shot up again, his grip tightening around her. “You were going to go slow?”  
  
“Maybe. Draw out the tension a little.” Her teasing smile lessened as he returned it with his own raffish grin, the deadly serious intent in his lust-blown eyes making a tremor course up her spine. “But that idea is definitely out the window now.”  
  
After a few moments of staring down at her, he tipped his chin down, accepting her words. Leaning in close, her eyelids shut in anticipation of a kiss. Rather, she was surprised when he instead spoke, lips faintly brushing over hers and making her tingle.  
  
“Good,” he whispered, reluctantly releasing her. Blue eyes followed her as she pivoted towards the bathroom, noticing as she stooped by her suitcase on the way to pull something out of it and shaking his head as she shut the door behind her.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Holly braced her hands on the long counter of the sink, taking a good look at her reflection. Makeup was cleaned off, wiped away, eyes stinging a little as she removed the liner and mascara. The false crystal combs were pulled out, the trembling in her fingers long since subsided, the pins of her hair following them onto the counter. Semi-curled waves of brown hair tickled her shoulders as she allowed her dress to drop away. Crooking it over the shower rod for the moment, she swiftly pulled the slip off, grimacing at the set-up remaining. Since her dress was bought and shipped fast, some of the measurements hadn't been quite right. With little time to devote to getting it altered, she instead opted to look into slimming underwear. It had worked, for the most part, save for the restrictiveness and the occasional digging in some unsavory spots. Still, it was an incredible relief to pull them all off, and as she idly scratched at the lines on her sides and stomach, she almost considered exiting fully in the nude. Steve certainly wouldn't have a problem with it, she knew that much, but one glance at the little number she'd picked up for the occasion (the gift she'd gotten from her sister and her best friend could wait until another time) and she scrapped the notion. It was light enough, airy enough, to cause no issues...and wouldn't be on for very long, anyway, she mused naughtily to herself. The light pink panties slid on easily enough, the matching baby-doll top wafting around her torso as she pulled it around her shoulders. Tying the ribbon at the front, she tried to make the bow as unobtrusive as possible, adjusting as needed. At least it wasn't obnoxious as other lingerie sets were, particularly when one wasn't incredibly busty, she thought, running her fingers through her hair one last time and tidying her appearance a bit.  
  
When she finally exited the bathroom, she paused by the rack suspended nearby, managing to at least get her dress off the rod and onto a hanger. The restrictive underwear was dropped onto the floor, nudged into the corner and out of sight along with her shoes. For a second or two, she just flexed her feet, stretching out her back before flicking off the lights. Peering around the corner, she observed the changes to the room she'd been staying in the last few days. Another suitcase was placed along the far wall, next to the dresser and television stand, the single chair in the corner layered with Steve's jacket and trousers, shoes, socks, and tie. She watched as her husband stood by the wide bedside, leaning over the nearby end table. Half in profile, she could see the white shirt he still wore was unbuttoned, his muscled torso peeking out as he reached over, a nondescript box placed to be near at hand. Black boxer briefs clung to him, leaving little to the imagination, exposing his toned legs. The single lamp illuminating the room cast a golden glow over him as he turned to sit on the edge of the bed, eyebrows shooting up when he caught her staring. The ardent look in his gaze was softened by his small grin, but did not remove its potency in its entirety. Ducking back around the corner, Holly smoothed down the top, tousling her hair and taking a deep breath before emerging.  
  
Wide, appreciative eyes ran over her from top to bottom, and the small grin turned a touch more voracious. Sitting forward slightly, Steve licked his lips as he took in the sight of her.  
  
“Well, that's a sight less than what you had on before, at least,” he said, his voice pitching a little deeper than normal.  
  
Holly winked down at him, hands curling around the hem of the baby-doll top. “Can't make it too easy for you.”  
  
Steve rolled his eyes at that, but smiled withal, extending a hand. It was his left, his wedding ring glinting in the low light as he waited. Coming forward, she slipped her hand into his, lacing their fingers together as she stepped up into the V of his legs. Up close, his five o'clock shadow was more obvious, as was the arousal dilating his pupils. Cupping his cheek, warmth flooded through her as he turned his head to kiss her palm. The sideways glance he sent up at her was bright, his grin widening before he bussed her skin again. His right hand went to her hip, sliding to down to the elastic of the panties, a finger dipping inside to caress her for a second or two before moving back up again. Glimpsing something at the opening of the top, he focused on it.  
  
“Oh, what's this?” he wondered, his brow furrowing as he pushed the fabric of the lingerie top further apart. Revealing her torso, he blinked at the hard imprints of lines in her skin, some places a little red and strained. Glancing up at her, concern laced his features. “Are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah, just...my under-attire wasn't exactly the most forgiving,” she explained, lifting a shoulder. Tipping her head to the left, her face screwed up a little as she thought about it. “Better than some of the stuff that I could've gone with, but...well.”  
  
“Poor you,” he crooned, pouting in sympathy for a moment. Off her mocking laugh, he grinned, leaning forward to press his mouth over the lines in her skin. The hot, wet kisses he planted on her stomach and hips, the trail of his tongue around her navel, made her drop her head back. A moan climbed out of her throat as he nuzzled up her ribs, closer to her breasts and the ribbon that kept them in. “Poor, poor you.”  
  
Enjoying the feeling of his mouth and the scrape of his chin against her for a moment or two longer, she nudged him to sit farther back on the bed, the back of his knees firmly against the mattress's edge. Sliding into his lap, her knees were resting on either side of him, and she lowered herself enough to rest upon his thighs. Her hands framed his face as she leaned down for a kiss, the sweet touch turning more fervent as it increased. She teased and taunted him, nibbling his full bottom lip for a time. Soon enough, her tongue traced over it, slipping into his mouth with no resistance from him. She tasted him, the lingering tannins of wine interspersed with the sugar of the cake, overriding all else in that moment as her point glanced over his. Meanwhile, his grasp went under the pink folds of her lingerie. One hand slipped around to the back and under the cloth of her panties to squeeze her ass, while the other coasted up to the ribbon set snugly between her breasts. It was tugged loose, his endeavor faltering as she moved to drop pecks along his jawline, tracing around around the shell of his ear and making him shudder. The fabric opened, the coverings pushed to the side as he nipped and licked his way down her neck, to her shoulder. Flicking his tongue out, he left a hot trail as he went onto her chest. Her nails dug into the cloth of his shirt as he lapped lightly at one breast, rolling the nipple of the other as he did so. As he suckled and tasted her, she rocked against him, arching her back slightly to encourage him in his efforts. She raked a hand through his hair, the strands ruffled and in disarray.  
  
“Touch me, Steve,” she moaned after awhile, lifting herself off of him enough to allow access to her slit.  
  
A hand kneaded her breast gently, and she could feel him grin against her skin. “I thought I already was.”  
  
Playfully, Holly rolled her eyes, cupping his chin and pulling him up for another deep kiss.  
  
“Smart-ass,” she mumbled against his lips. Placing her fingers over his wrist, she guided his other hand out of the back of her panties, the flat of his palm grazing around to the front and down her body until it nearly cupped her sex. As he hovered only inches away from her core, she pressed her forehead to his. “Please?”  
  
A moment passed in which he hesitated...or, as she later understood, drew out the tension. It was long enough that when he ran his knuckles over wet cloth, she jumped and squeaked in surprise.  
  
“Whatever you want,” he murmured, doing as she asked. A digit trailed over her clothed slit, teasing her through the fabric for several seconds. His eyes were intent on her face, watching as her jaw slackened and a purr was drawn from deep within her as he went. The wetness there grew, even more so when he hooked a finger into a leg of the material, pushing it off to the side so he could trace between the slick folds. The faintest brush over her clit made a small noise catch in her throat, the barest caress at her entrance causing her to gasp. Huskily, overtaken by the carnality as much as she, he asked, “More, sweetheart?”  
  
“Uh-huh,” she whimpered, palms running over his chest and nails scraping over the skin when he thumbed her clit, circling it at a torturous pace. Downward, she trailed a path, pausing over the silvery scar just above his stomach; it was one of the marks left permanently on his body after years of battle and nursing. Tenderly, she swept the pad of her thumb over it before continuing. Just as she reached the waist of his boxer briefs, he slipped a finger into her passage, the jolt of electricity it sparked making her jerk and moan. She spread her knees wider, digging into the bed's comforter so he could go deeper. Deterred for a few seconds, she resumed her own path of touching and exploration, finally succeeding in getting under the confining cloth and stroking his penis. He groaned as her palm closed around him, his onslaught on her halting briefly. He was very warm to the touch, the few pumps she was giving him making him shift, the muscles in his stomach stiffening to prevent him from jerking his hips up.  
  
“You're so hard for me,” she said, nipping at his bottom lip as his mouth hung open. The graze of her teeth, combined with the glide of her hand, made his breath catch.  
  
“Waited all day...to be with my wife,” he gasped, face burying into her neck. The hand in her folds started to move again, pressure on the little bundle of nerves increased and two fingers slipping against her inner walls. Her head fell onto his shoulder, and his lips pulled up in a half grin. “Not surprising.”  
  
Several long, languid moments passed as they continued to stimulate one another, hips starting to rock and wetness soaking their grips. Knowing full well that Steve could bring her to climax in a short while—with him not far behind, due to her own administrations—Holly struggled against the greedy cravings of her body, removing her hand from around him, his crow of protest dying in his throat as she reached down between them.  
  
“Steve...stop, stop,” she slurred, grasping his arm and stilling his movements. Hazily, she tipped her head off his shoulder, blown-out eyes seeking his. Shaking her head, she removed his fingers from between her legs, tipping her chin towards the box of condoms waiting for them. “Wanna ride my husband, not his hand.”  
  
Slowly, he nodded, blearily letting her rise off his lap after a couple of seconds. Removing a foil packet from the box on the nightstand, she held it between her teeth as she hooked her thumbs into the waist of her panties and pulled them off. Following her example, he lifted himself off the bed long enough to drop the briefs, kicking them away as he sat back down again. Thinking to remove his shirt fully, he was stymied by her firm grip on the collar, and then he was distracted by the stroke of her fingers as she rolled the condom onto him.  
  
“Climb on, doll,” Steve invited her, and Holly did just that. Straddling his lap, she lined him up with her entrance, sliding down onto his penis, sharp breaths flying out her nose as she did so. Widening her knees again, she sank until he was buried up to the hilt in her, his chest rapidly rising and falling with every breath. Gripping onto his shoulders, she started to rock up and down, rolling her hips and feeling him brush inside her. Some time passed as she kept him sitting up, the motions of her body preventing him from lying down, the precarious position at the edge of the bed making them both hyper-aware and providing a little rush of adrenaline. Instead, he improvised a way to meet her in the act. Leaning back, he planted one hand firmly onto the bed, using it for leverage and raising his pelvis to engage on her downward strokes. The tip of his member slanted over her spot, the thrust up driving him deeper and harder as she went faster. His other hand snaked into her hair, tipping her forward and crashing his lips against hers as she rode him. Breaking the kiss, she stared down at him, smirking saucily before bracing a hand on his knee. Shifting into a slight lean, she clung to his shirt with the other as if it were a harness, rolling her hips around instead of up and down.  
  
“ _Merde, merde_ ,” he grunted, grasping her waist harshly to stabilize her. Shifting his hips, the liquid heat between them was accelerating into a fire, sweat dampening the clothes that clung around their torsos as he thrust up into her circling.  
  
“That's right, Steven,” she crowed, rocking harder and faster than before, her voice enticing him. Rock down, thrust up, the pattern repeated, his fingers moving to paw at her breasts or hers digging into his shoulder as her walls fluttered around him. The passes burned and froze them, the intensity bringing them to the brink. Another delving digit, and the bundle of nerves was stroked up, sparks of pleasure and fire coursing through Holly's veins. Rock down, thrust up, stroke, and then...  
  
She threw her head back as she came, and was prevented from falling limply backward only by Steve's arms wrapping around her in an iron grip. Her release encompassed him, his grunts muffled as he buried his face against her neck. Hips twitched and jerked a few more times as the orgasms subsided, with Steve finally able to lie down on the bed, Holly cradled to his chest and their panting the only sound in the room for awhile. The pads of her fingers lingered along his abdomen, and his palms were splayed along her back, bunching up the material clinging to her sweaty skin. Minutes went by, and then she shifted, raising herself up and off of him, still too sensitive to do so without shuddering.  
  
“Holy...” Steve trailed off, trying to catch his breath as she rolled onto her back beside him. Slipping the used condom off, he got up after another minute or two, dropping it into the waste basket. The stickiness of his body compelled him to take his shirt off, with him draping it over his other clothes before he wandered back to the bed. Holly had not moved, her focus on the ceiling above, her fingers idly plucking at the baby-doll top and shirking it off. The inevitable clean-up she would have to perform could wait a minute or two, at least until she felt she could walk steadily back to bathroom (and perhaps he would join her for that, too). Tossing it away to join the panties on the floor, she sighed.  
  
“Can I just say how grateful I am that the practice of watching a couple consummate their marriage is defunct?” she exclaimed when he laid down beside her again, snickering at the face he pulled. “Because I don't think I could've done that in front of a crowd.”  
  
“Me either, doll,” he confessed, propping himself up and tracing invisible patterns along her bare arm. A thoughtful expression settled on his face, his mind churning over everything that had happened that day. “Our marriage...we're married, Holly.”  
  
“Yep,” she replied, eyebrows inclining and a streak of befuddlement crossing her irises. “Did you black out during the entire ceremony and just wake up in time for the sex?”  
  
Glancing down at her, he rolled his eyes, the smirk that had surfaced fading quickly.  
  
“Cute. It's just...we're married, now,” he repeated, uncertain how to make his sentiments any clearer. “You're my wife. That's so...”  
  
“Terrifying? Makes you want to head for the hills?” Holly joked, a half smile gracing her lips. Meeting his gaze, she saw the unbridled emotion, the love, lurking there, knew that as long as she stared back, he could see it reflected in hers.  
  
“Wonderful,” he supplied, voice barely above a whisper. Another burst of warmth flowed through her then, straight out from her heart, and she couldn't keep herself from grinning ear to ear. Sitting up, she captured his lips with hers, a strong, true kiss melding them together for a time.  
  
“Oh, Steven,” she cooed after they drew apart. She reached out, brushing the hair that had dropped down onto his forehead away with her left hand. “My husband. My cheesy, cornball husband.”  
  
Steve snorted at that. “Such a sweet, loving spouse you are.”  
  
“Absolutely true,” she told him, a staunch nod following. Tilting his head to the side, Steve scooted closer, arms wrapping around her as he rolled her underneath him.  
  
“Care to prove it?” he inquired, eyebrow twitching up in challenge.  
  
“As many times as I have to,” she said, eyes going half-lidded. Lifting a leg, she curled it around his waist, bringing him closer to her. “And I hope you'll do the same for me.”  
  
Humming happily under his breath, he brushed his palm tenderly along her thigh and pressed his forehead against hers.  
  
“You have any doubt I will?”  
  
“...Nope.”

**Author's Note:**

> Translation:  
> " _Merde, merde._ "-French; Shit, shit.


End file.
